


Love Of My Life, I Was Born To Love You...

by NerdsLover



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Mentioned Freddie Mercury, Mutual Pining, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2020-10-14 02:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20593454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdsLover/pseuds/NerdsLover
Summary: There are a very few things Crowley is sure about; one of them is that pining during six thousand years is very, very long – even for an immortal entity like him - and that will end today, in a way or another.OrThe two Ineffable Idiots confess their love to each other with Freddie Mercury's help.





	1. Love Of My Life

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a native, please, forgive my mistakes; I hope you will enjoy it.
> 
> Warnings: maybe a little angsty by the end, but, if you read the tags, you will immediately know how it will finish ;-)
> 
> For my Birdie <3

Crowley had pined for Aziraphale for almost six thousand years now, since this end of afternoon when the Angel confessed to him he had willingly given his flaming sword to Adam in order to him being able to protect Eve and himself from all the dangers Her Almighty had thought good of creating. He had betrayed The Lord by doing that, but he had done the right thing, Crowley was sure about it. There were a very few things Crowley was sure about, four to be exact: Aziraphale had made the good choice, he was in love with Aziraphale, pining during six thousand years was very, very long – even for an immortal entity like him – and Freddie Mercury couldn’t be human. No human being was able writing and singing song like he did, that was just impossible. But I digress…

What was my point again? Ah, yes! So, after pining since the sixth day of the Creation, Crowley had made a decision: he was going to confess his love. Admitting their feelings isn’t easy for anybody, the fear of being rejected, of having their heart broken keeps most of the mankind from it. Imagine what it’s like when you’re a Daemon… When God Herself condemns you to be deprived of any kind of pleasant feelings, when you’re supposed to be unable to love anything. It’s known for a long time that Crowley is the worst Daemon who exists, ok, but, still, it’s very difficult, especially for him.

Did I really lose myself again? No, not really, I’m just trying to hold the time as much as I can to give a moment to Crowley to bring himself together before acting on his Stop-The-Pining-Whatever-It-Costs Plan. Ok, maybe I had been a little overdramatic about it, the Daemon had had an idea. He had had two, in fact. The first was to grab Aziraphale by the collar of his shirt, shouting “I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU SINCE THE VERY BEGINNING OF THE WORLD, BUT SINCE YOU DIDN’T UNDERSTAND IT BY YOURSELF YET, I’M TELLING TO YOU. I. LOVE. YOU.” And shaking him until the information enters his thick skull. That was a simple idea, but time had taught to Crowley that the simplest was almost always the best. That’s why he was always making a big fuss about everything; because, yes, sometimes, Crowley did remember he was supposed to do Evil…

What the He… Hum… What was I saying? Eeeh… Ah! So, the second idea was much more subtle, in Crowley’s point of view, anyway. When he was unable to describe what he was feeling, the Daemon usually found a song which did. And the best of all, the one who had always been able to touch Crowley to his very soul (because, yes, Crowley still has a soul, The Creator had had to do half of the work, quickly, deeply pissed off by the army of bored Angels Satan had been able to seduce and by the work all of this debacle had generated. Crowley’s Fall had been done crooked.) and voice all his emotions was Freddie Mercury. When the Daemon had heard the perfect song to describe what he felt for Aziraphale, he hadn’t been surprised it was a Queen’s one. At all. Sorry Crowley, but you really have to go now, or the Reader will start to throw things at their screen to get the following of the events faster (or just leave the fiction).

This is how Crowley ended pushing the door of the Angel’s bookshop, set and ready to burst from anxiousness.

“Coming! Oh, dear boy, it’s you! What can I do for you?”

Before all his bravery decides to pick a one-way ticket for who knows where, Crowley performed a little demonic miracle to get the old gramophone playing The Perfect Song.

_Love of my life, you've hurt me_

_You've broken my heart and now you leave me_

_Love of my life, can't you see?_

_Bring it back, bring it back_

_Don't take it away from me, because you don't know_

_What it means to me_

As the song was playing, Crowley could see the stupor painting the Angel’s face. He really didn’t have a clue, then…

_Love of my life, don't leave me_

_You've stolen my love, you now desert me_

_Love of my life, can't you see?_

_Bring it back, bring it back_

_Don't take it away from me_

_Because you don't know_

_What it means to me_

That had been a bad idea. Crowley should have known that, every idea he ever got always ended up blowing up in his own face. He should have known better than believing this one would work…

_You will remember_

_When this is blown over_

_Everything's all by the way_

_When I grow older_

_I will be there at your side to remind you_

_How I still love you_

What if Aziraphale was horrified by this confession? He probably was. Who would want love from a Daemon? Daemon couldn’t love for Satan’s sake! Crowley had been a bad Angel and now he was an even worst Daemon… Was he really good for nothing? What is the Angel was disgusted? If he never wanted to talk to Crowley ever again?

_Oh, hurry back, hurry back_

_Don't take it away from me_

_Because you don't know what it means to me_

_Love of my life_

_Love of my life_

The last music notes echoed in the silence of the bookshop. Neither Aziraphale nor Crowley had moved during the song, but the Angel hadn’t time to finish his idea about, somehow, making a coherent sentence that Crowley had already run away.


	2. The Clock Moves

If there had been some logic in the immeasurable mess commonly called “Creation”, if God hadn’t been completely drunk while throwing the Universe up, Aziraphale would have been the very best Angel which could be found, but, well… This description is Gabriel’s one; it’s to say how much everything had been fucked up… That to say. Aziraphale wasn’t seen like a good Angel because he loved the humankind too much. Yes, I know, that’s a complete nonsense since God is love, so there shouldn’t be possible to love something too much, what do you want me to say? This is failed, this is failed, there are only to options: erasing everything to start all over again or just acting like nothing ever happened; until now, it seems God chose the second option.

Aziraphale was, indeed, a being of pure love. He loved food, he loved books, he loved dancing the gavotte, he loved good wine and hot cocoa with the tiny white and pink marshmallows floating over the foam. The Angel deeply loved the humankind, despite how the horrors human beings had committed over the millenaries; he had always been able to find the good, the kindness, the goodwill in them. He also had always been able to find all of these in Crowley. If he hadn’t been afraid to lack respect to Her Almighty, he would have said that, the day She let Crowley Fall, She had made a huge, stupid mistake.

At first, very sure about the perfection of God’s Judgment, Aziraphale had tried to reason himself. If Crowley was a Daemon, there should be a good reason. He wasn’t an evil Daemon, but he still was the enemy. No fraternizing with the enemy, that would be against God’s Laws. Then, he had started to wonder if the judgment of an entity able to chase two poor people from Eden for only one mistake, able to give up on thousands of Angels for only one wrong choice, to drown everybody, children include, to purify the Earth (and, in addition, it didn’t even work!), to let Jesus die on the Cross supposedly to save people from their own sins, was as wise as he first had thought. But, afraid of the Fall, he had kept all of this not even to himself; it was better to not think about it at all.

We all know he finally “fraternized with the enemy”. After all, why would they both move if one of them could do all the work with the same result at the end? Because, well, we also all know that now, doing the good or the evil is a matter of choice. And, since he hadn’t been struck down, Aziraphale had supposed Her Almighty more or less agreed with him. He had thought that until this day in France in 1793, when he would have been discorporated if Crowley hadn’t saved him. Crowley hadn’t had to do it, more, he would have been in big troubles if the Hell had heard about it. That had been when Aziraphale had figured two things out: first, whatever the circumstances, Crowley hadn’t deserved to Fall; second, The Lord didn’t agree with him; no, either She was utterly blind, or She didn’t care _at all_. Or She was taking a big nap.

From that, everything could have been perfect, Aziraphale and Crowley could have built a beautiful and strong friendship while ribbing both Heaven and Hell. But then, Crowley had asked for some Holy Water, the only thing which could kill a Daemon. He had asked the Angel for the weapon which could make him commit suicide and Aziraphale had seen red. How _dares _he asking him for it? How could he be so selfish? How could he be so stupid? The only thing Aziraphale could see was his only one friend wanting to go forever, maybe, one day. He couldn’t see how desperate Crowley was, forever deprived of Love but who had, somehow, managed to become friend with the object of his affection; forever condemned to unrequited love. That was even crueller than the Fall. But, all of this, Aziraphale didn’t know.

Again, their story could have been different if there hadn’t been that night of 1941. Seeing Crowley entering a Holy Place, suffering, just to save his utterly stupid Angel skin had moved something inside Aziraphale, but he was still too much angry at the Daemon to agree to show it. The Demonic miracle to make sure that the church was the only building destroyed and their occupiers the only victims (that must be said: Crowley had saved more lives than Aziraphale’s one this night) had stunned Aziraphale to the point he had forgotten why he had been mad at Crowley. The fact that the supposedly Daemon had thought about saving his books from the chaos had made the trick: the Angel had fallen in love. Thinking back, Aziraphale had started to fall in love with Crowley since Day 6, the coin had just taken a long, long, long, very long time to completely drop. Angel’s skulls are very thick, what can I say?

Angel’s skulls are so very thick that, from this night, Aziraphale had managed to convince himself that his love was unrequited. Don’t ask me how he did this when Crowley was this obvious; I don’t know, that must had been a gift of some sort, maybe one of the numerous bugs the Lord left in Her Creation when She woke up with an awful hangover which had become worse when She had seen the mess She had done. Anyways, Aziraphale had decided to love Crowley from afar and in silence the best he could. Since he couldn’t, he was meeting the Daemon three times a week, but still didn’t confess his love. Better a friend and a broken heart than a broken heart and no friend at all, isn’t it?

Until today. Until the Daemon had burst into his bookshop and had the gramophone played this song. This _love _song. Then, Aziraphale had understood and almost discorporated from cheer, but Crowley had flown away before he could have reciprocated the feelings. That wasn’t a big deal, though, since the Angel had recognized the song and, for once in his life, was absolutely sure about what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, see you soon fort the last part ;-)


	3. I Was Born To Love You

A few days after his love-confession-debacle, Crowley was still mourning in his flat. He was sad, sure as he was to have lost not only his best friend but also the love of his life. He also was angry. He was angry at God to have given up on him, angry at Satan to have taunted him, angry at God to have let Satan taunting him, angry at all the Creatures of the Hell to have decided to became evil in revenge for the Fall, angry to be part of these Creatures but to be the only one who’s unable to bear doing evil, he was angry at the humankind which was very able to mess everything up without his help, thank you very much, he was angry at himself to have been unable to shut his big mouth about his feelings and he was even angry at Aziraphale who had given him some Holy Water but who also was the reason why Crowley would never use it; because the very thought of making his Angel sad was more unbearable than the existence itself. And he was angry at this goddamn phone which didn’t stop ringing! He was ready to burn it with a Hell fire ball when he heard something he wasn’t expecting:

“Good morning my dear, I know you’re at home, why don’t you pick up? Anyway, listen carefully, we’re going out; meet me at 51° 33′ 21″ N, 0° 16′ 47″ W, London. I repeat, 51° 33′ 21″ N, 0° 16′ 47″ W, London. Two O’clock, don’t be late, you won’t be disappointed. See you!”

OK… There were so much incongruities in this situation that Crowley didn’t know with which to begin. How could Aziraphale call him after his declaration? Didn’t he understand what Crowley had wanted to say? Was it why the Angel had said nothing, because he just hadn’t understood? That was the only logical possibility, if he had wanted to reject Crowley’s love, he wouldn’t have asked him to go out a few days later, would he? Why _the Hell _had him given Crowley geographical coordinates instead of the name of the place? Aziraphale was so much theatrical when he wanted to… And, from Crowley, such a statement did mean something! And why a rendezvous at two in the afternoon? That was a strange hour, too late for lunch and too early for tea… All of this was very suspicious, indeed, but if Crowley had let suspicious things stop him, well… He wouldn’t have fallen.

*

Being anxious was in Aziraphale’s nature. That probably was a consequence of this perpetual duty to do good, how can you always be sure to do good? Aziraphale was an Angel, sure, but that didn’t mean he was perfect; no, only God Is perfect. Well, imagine if She Wasn’t… No, no, he didn’t have time to such a reflexion. What must be retained is that Aziraphale is not perfect, so he’s never sure to do what he should do, like when he had given his flaming sword to Adam. The Angel had genuinely thought he was doing good, what if he had been wrong? Well, that was far too late, anyway. But he was now in a similar situation: he had given a rendezvous to Crowley and he had all prepared very well, but what if everything backfire on his face? That was very unlikely since the Daemon had confessed first, but, well, you know… There was always a risk? Maybe he had misunderstood? Now, Aziraphale was almost able to hear a voice (Crowley’s voice, it was always his voice which was screaming at him in his head when the Angel was being stupid, God knows why…) asking _how _in Heaven and Hell would he be stupid enough to be able to misunderstood such a love song. And his own voice answering one was never too careful. And Crowley’s voice spitting “bollocks”. Yes, Aziraphale had actually thought “bollocks”. Now, you have an idea of anxious he was.

When he saw Crowley arriving at the appointed time, Aziraphale had been sincerely surprised to not have been discorporated from cheer stress. Despite his thick skull, the Angel knew Crowley was in love with him, but, strangely enough, it didn’t help him to feel better. Not when he knew the Daemon had came to confess to him without being certain of his feelings being reciprocated – knowing the phenomenon, more likely being certain his love was unrequited – and just thinking about that was making Aziraphale’s knees go all weak. Softie.

*

Crowley had been surprised to discover that 51° 33′ 21″ N, 0° 16′ 47″ W, London was, in fact, Wembley Stadium, but It had been nothing compared to his face when he had realized the Angel had invited him to a Queen’s live concert. The said Angel was nowhere to be seen, but the instructions the checker had given to him were quite clear: enjoy the show but stay alert. Crowley didn’t know why he needed to stay alert, but he had decided to obey, nonetheless. There was no way in Hell he would miss such an occasion.

Yes, Crowley had been surprised. But, when he heard Freddie Mercury himself telling he had had a dream about the strangest but also the most beautiful love story ever which had inspired him to write the next song, when Aziraphale had appeared from thin air just next to him at this exact moment and when the Daemon had understood the purpose of the song, he purely had been astonished.

_I was born to love you._

Crowley let the song washed into him, not being able to turn his gaze from the Angel’s.

_I was born to love you_

_With every single beat of my heart_

_Yes, I was born to take care of you_

_Every single day of my life_

Aziraphale throwed him a shy smile.

“I do think he had been quite inspired, don’t you think?”

_You are the one for me_

_I am the man for you_

_You we're made for me_

_You're my ecstasy_

_If I was given every opportunity_

_I'd kill for your love_

_So take a chance with me_

_Let me romance with you_

_I'm caught in a dream_

_And my dream's come true_

_So hard to believe_

_This is happening to me_

_An amazing feeling_

_Comin' through –_

_…_

_I wanna love you_

_I love every little thing about you_

_I wanna love you, love you, love you_

_Born - to love you_

_Born - to love you_

_Yes I was born to love you_

_Born - to love you_

_Born - to love you_

_Every single day - day of my life_

_An amazing feeling_

_Comin' through_

_I was born to love you_

_With every single beat of my heart_

_Yeah, I was born to take care of you_

_Every single day of my life_

_Yeah I was born to love you_

_Every single day of my life_

And Crowley, to answer in a whisper…

“…Yeah…”

I wouldn’t say this is how began the wonderful love between an Angel and a Daemon, no, this story had begun six thousand years ago. I would say this is how a lover of life, a singer of songs, the greatest of all, had helped - and managed - to gather two ineffable lovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
